


Machtverschiebung

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Incest, M/M, There’s no actual German in this except for the title because I barely speak it, hope my friends like this it’s for them, i Love my German bfs, if they don’t they can choke, shameless porn, top!Prussia, yeah it’s one of those fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 06:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17802581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prussia decides it’s time to take matters in his own hands. That requires a power shift.





	Machtverschiebung

Prussia chugged down the last sip of beer and slammed his glass on the table. 

“And that’s how I defeated the Russian bastard once and for all”, he said, and grinned widely while the guys all around him clapped and cheered. They were all too drunk to fully understand what he said but they didn’t really care.

A generic blonde twink approached him with a big smile on his face: “Oh wow, it really sounds like you’ve lived during the war”.

Prussia looked at him: he was probably barely legal, 18 at max, definitely not his type. But he did love some attention.

“I did kid, I did”.

“Why don’t you call me Allen, mh?”.

The generic blonde twink named Allen was really hitting on him. “Allen, uh? I’m Gilbert. Nice… to meet you”. The beer was kinda obfuscating his mind, but he could still remember his fake name. How awkward would’ve been if he had introduces himself as Prussia. But the generic blonde twink would’ve wanted to fuck anyway. In fact, Prussia could feel his hand sliding on his waist: this twink had initiative! Prussia liked that.

Allen leaned on him, planting kisses on his neck, chin and lips, and Prussia let him do his thing: it would’ve been very cruel on his side, rejecting such a cute guy. Everyone needed a bite of Prussia, before or after.

They made out briefly, Allen seemed way into it, he moaned at one point, and Prussia rolled his eyes while kissing. That was not cool. They parted for a bit, Prussia putting his hands on Allen’s chest and saying “Oof, slow down champ. We’re not trying to fuck on the SchwuZ’s counter, okay? I have a reputation here”.

He could read disappointment in Allen’s expression, but he kept talking: “Listen, there are some really nice guys here, you should try and get some. But not from me, trust me”.

“Oh… okay”, said Allen smiling nervously, “Bye then”, and disappeared into the dancing crowd as soon as possible, visibly blushing.

Prussia had no time for wimpy twinks, he definitely deserved something more. He then started eyeing the guys in the bar, since the ladies were probably all off limits.

Hungary would've felt right at home in that bar, with all those lesbians, Prussia said to himself. Hungary not wanting him clearly meant she was gay. Who wouldn’t have wanted to screw him, after all?

He winked at the barman, leaving some euros on the counter. He had forgotten how many times he had been there. Even before euros. And how many times, back at the time when he and his brother had been parted, he had dreamt of going to the SchwuZ.

He clearly remembered the first time he had heard about it, it was from one of Russia's soldiers.

"They've opened a place for homosexuals in West Berlin. I can't believe the Americans... they're all fucking faggots, allowing this shit to happen".

"Yeah, it's disgusting".

It was 1977.

Gilbert really wanted to ask more, but they would've probably shut him up. He had become so much more remissive since he had been conquered by Russia, who barely allowed him to speak to his brother on the phone for not more than two minutes per week.

Their conversations were also severely monitored, and they usually went like this:  
"How's going".

"Well".

"Well".

"Good weather today".  
"The best".

"I miss you".

"Me too".

Prussia got chills, remembering how much they had suffered. He recalled really wanting to ask his brother how had the bar come to life, if he had a part in its construction, or if it was all America's idea. He seriously doubted it: as if America actually gave a fuck about Germany! Prussia was fully convinced America was just interested in challenging Russia at a game of who had the biggest dick.

The first time he went to Schwuz, many years later, his brother was with him: he was so damn proud of that small brewery he was almost shaking. His desire to please America had changed him, making him more eager to receive appreciation from others, and that included his own brother Prussia or, as Germany had started calling him, East.

Prussia knew about his brother’s preferences, it had been clear for ages, and he was happy that he could finally have a place where he could meet other men; a nice one, on top of it all. The former brewery hadn’t been so transformed from his original purpose, it seemed like only the oldest furniture had been renovated, but he could still see some of the wooden barrels, and the faucets for the draft beer. It still had that familiar, intimate atmosphere of the war days, when soldiers could relieve the tension by drinking and singing together, and forgetting about how their lives were all at risk. The modern nainbow flag, imported from America, was hanging from a wall in the back, shyly, as if Germany was still afraid to show it. He had his reasons.

Germany looked at him, tense, and asked “Well? What do you think?”.

“It’s very nice West, I like it a lot. You should be proud of yourself, keeping a place like this alive when you have a wall, American soldiers everywhere, and you can’t see your beloved big brother? Congrats”, Prussia said, patting his brother’s shoulder.

“So you like it, oh thank God. I was pretty worried”, exhaled Germany, relieved, “Do you think you could come some day? I’m actually not here often, me and Italy are trying to… you know… clear up some stuff”, he said, sitting down on one of the sofas. It was pretty clear he wanted to talk, and maybe ask for his advice. Prussia still held himself at a high standard, even after what Russia had done to him, so he was more than happy to appear strong and wise to his little brother; he sat down next to him, prompting one foot on his knee and smiled fondly.

“Tell me”.

Germany hesitated for a second: “It’s very hard to talk to him, especially face to face. His boss is obsessed with having us separated in the public eye, and Romano hates me immensely from what I supposedly did to his brother, he’s nor even concerned about his own image. He told me that people already see him as lesser, so he doesn’t care. But, when it comes to me and Veneziano, seems like he can’t understand that we’re all forced to obey to the same forces and we have no saying. He’s subjected to the same thing, and yet he behaves like it’s all my fault”.

“You know how Romano is”.

“And yet here I am, complaining about it. I don’t know what I was expecting, in all honesty. It will take us years to forgive each other, but they will never forget, won’t they”.

“Who?”.

“The world. Maybe our peers will understand. But the world… the rest of the world doesn’t move on so fast. People die, generations pass, but we what we can’t change is history”.

Prussia bit his lower lip, reflecting about what his brother said. Suddenly the truth hit him: when everyone would’ve stopped seeing him as the victim of Russia’s actions, they would’ve all turnt on him and group him with all the other “nazis”: Austria, the two Italies, and of course: Germany.

“Poland still doesn’t talk to me. As if I were surprised. I’m not, let’s be clear. But I thought he would’ve been more understanding”.

“How can he? We destroyed his home and murdered his people”.

Silence fell again, and the two Germanies linked their fingers, looking at each other in the eyes; at least, they were together again after years of not seeing each other if not in pictures, or on the tv. Prussia recalled they made love on that same sofa, desperate and eager, after all that time they couldn’t touch each other’s skin.

He felt hot, suddenly, as he was walking towards his house in Friedrichshain. It was a long walk, a bit more that an hour, but he was almost completely sober and it felt nice. Berlin was still alive even at night and Prussia allowed himself to enjoy the cool air of the night, since he was feeling so flustered.

He carefully avoided the parts of the Wall still remaining: he knew the location of every single piece of that cursed concrete in the city, he really couldn’t stand seeing it again. The reminder that his brother had once been an enclave. He shook his head, his thoughts clearing out only to pet a cute dog with an even cuter owner: he could see her blushing when he asked how was she doing. He liked the effect he had on people, and thanked God for making him with such an appearance, not that he could’ve defined someone of his kind ugly anyway: sure, England’s lanky body, America’s drunken belly (“Dude, I don’t drink, they’re muscles!”) or France’s stupid beard could’ve been considered flaws, but the charme, the intensity that they carried along, made up for everything’s else. But not him, he thought, he was perfect. And his brother too, he added: that height, that chiseled arms, thighs and stomach, those piercing blue eyes that could be so severe, were sometimes sweet and caring and Prussia loved every centimeter of him. He also loved how hard they fucked, but that was another thing entirely: Germany topped with growing enthusiasm but his technique was rough, Prussia thought; weird, considered how precise and meticulous Germany was in every other area of his life.

Maybe that was the problem, guessed Prussia, maybe it was that strictness, that stiffness, he needed to relax. And he needed someone, an expert, caring partner, to show him. Prussia did a u turn on his feet and kept walking in the other direction. A thirty minutes walk to one of Berlin’s most gorgeous neighborhoods: Charlottenburg. Where his beloved Fritz’s castle was.

And also his little brother’s house.

**Author's Note:**

> Part two is coming soon y’all


End file.
